


When what you love leaves

by Verona_mira



Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: AU, Angst, CinPhen Secret Santa 2k19, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22008982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verona_mira/pseuds/Verona_mira
Summary: Fritz lives.Varg lives.Lucette does not.
Relationships: Lucette Riella Britton/Fritzgerald Aiden Leverton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	When what you love leaves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unidraky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unidraky/gifts).



> This is the Secret Santa gift, I wrote for Julie. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as she has.
> 
> The recipents each wrote what they would like to receive and Julie wished for Angst and Tragedy in combination with the bad ending from either Fritz or Rumple with Lucette dying instead of the man in question.

The wolf in his head was howling. Fritz forced the painful sounds out of his focus to pay further attention to the swords coming at him, her scream still ringing in his ears, painfully aware of the downed body on the floor behind him.

Bleeding, but not dead. Wounded, but they had a doctor at that inn, and if he just managed to get her there in time-!

More knights flooded into the throne room and his thoughts were abandoned, all of his mind focusing on the fight instead. Swords met, shouts echoed through the air, and the chaos showed no sign of letting up. Desperation increasing, his thoughts raced.

There was a shove against his sword, his distraction costing him dearly as he cursed, almost losing his balance. It was enough for the wolf to push forward again.

He felt his body twist strangely as the other personality took hold of it, turning away from the opponent and getting more space between them, he ran straight to the princess, scooping her up into his arms, and then kept running.

* * *

Varg hated how far the Marchen was from the palace. If it had been closer, it would have been easier to find the princess back then, easier to remember the shortest path, less time needed to reach it.

As it was, he was forced to move at the fastest pace he knew he could keep up with while also not jostling his precious cargo too much. Stupid knight, not putting the princess first, too busy smashing heads in! So many minutes wasted waving that stupid sword around, when he could have been closer to the doctor already!

The other consciousness reared in his mind, but didn't rise up to fight him, at least seemingly aware of the fact that a fight now would only slow them down or -even worse- make him drop her!

Houses seemingly flew past him as he ran; and then, there, finally, was the building he had been looking for. The wolf tried to ignore how limp the princess had become in his arms as he smashed the door open.

The two knights familiar to the Hunter moved to meet him, only stopping as they saw his load.

A golden glow was his only warning, then the world went away as the fairy knocked him out.

* * *

Fritz awoke with a headache and the princess nowhere in sight.

He could recognize the inn Varg had run to, but the building was quiet now. Worry gnawing at him, he went to look around.

Just opening the door was already rewarding him with distant voices. Instead of following them straight away, he stilled. He smelled blood.

The door was just a bit further down the hallway and ajar. There was a strange feeling coiling in his stomach as he pushed it open.

It was a bedroom. A bed, a table and chair, a drawer. And no one was in.

The bloody sheet covering the bed seemed to attract his gaze in an eerie way. It was covering a vaguely human form. Breath caught in his lungs, fear rose inside him; he felt the wolf inside him twist, push through the short moment he spent frozen, staring at the bed.

Fritz pulled the sheet away.

He didn't know what was worse, staring at the lifeless body of his princess or knowing it was his fault.

* * *

The wolf's howls must have attracted the people that stormed into the room and pulled him away from the dead body of the center of his world for the last several years.

He fought and pulled against their grip and tried to get out of grasping hands that were forcing him away from his love.

Darkness washed over him as Varg pounced forward.

* * *

Varg didn't care for the glares sent his way, barely listened to the recollection of how Alcaster had sneaked back into the country and tried to get all of the royal family killed in one sweep.

The king being in attendance here clearly spoke of a failure there. The wolf wished that ripping out his throat would be enough to allow his princess to take breath again.

As it was, he needed to make do with glaring at them, baring teeth and feeling the knight flail in his mind; all the pain and sorrow, grief and guilt tearing him apart.

Fritz didn't fight his grasp on the body anymore. It was strange how easy it was to stay in control now.

Halfway listening, he took in how Alcaster had pushed the kingdom into a civil war with the Witch Queen's supporters and the traitor's knights using the kingdom as their playground. It left the remaining loyal knights and everyone wanting to help scrambling around for information and orders about how to proceed.

He finds himself thirsting for the Witch Queen's and the traitor's blood.

* * *

Fritz is silent in his mind as the blade cuts apart opponents, only stirring when nudged and otherwise just unmoving.

Varg knew that he wasn't even watching what was going on, what was happening with his body, as if his very will had been taken by the princess' death.

It's a bit of a pity, he muses, that Fritz will never see how Varg drove a sword through Hildyr's chest. How Genaro executed Alcaster and rallied loyal knights to hunt down the usurpers.

But it didn't matter in the end if Fritz saw it or not. The knights state only meant he wasn't going to disappear.

* * *

There was a strange feeling gnawing at him in the aftermath of the last battle. Not right away, but it settled in with the lessening number of people left to track down.

The witch who had created him had managed to slip away yet again, trail lost among trading ships at the harbour. Rage filled him at the thought of the leash still existing somewhere _ , _ but he also doubted the man would ever search him out.

But it also left him floating in this world, where he hadn't existed at some point. He was left with Fritz' possessions, but no task. No order to follow. No opponent to fight.

It started as a gnawing feeling, until loneliness tore at him.

No one is comfortable talking to him. Because he is a curse. He looks too much like Fritz. He's too vicious. Too  _ inhuman _ .

Varg looks at them and  _ hates. _

He was a wolf. He wasn't supposed to get lonely. But wolves were pack animals. He had forgotten that the curse dictated his actions.

At least Fritz couldn't leave.

* * *

The king looked at him with worry in his eyes. Emelaigne feared him too much to not run from him. The prince wasn't any different from her, and their mother barely crossed his path.

Fritz was still. An unmoving curled up dog, only apathy left for the world.

The funeral of the crown princess was a quiet thing among the celebrations of the other faction’s defeat.

The inhabitants of the inn were there; Waltz looking like someone ripped his heart out, a puppet getting its strings pulled from afar now. 

The doctor wasn't looking much better. Having bartered with the witch doctor before each time a patient was about to die, the princess was his first failure.

The Fairy and Witch looked like their world had collapsed under them, taking their lives with it; the bar girl looked like she had cried her eyes out.

The sword fighters were standing together, looking stone faced.

The royals were a mixture. The King seemed to have aged decades. The Queen had cried. The Prince was just looking down. The remaining Princess seemed to have used up all of her tears.

The princess’ body is in the coffin, still preserved by magic to not turn to dust, was slowly lowered into the ground among a sea of white lilies.

The fairy seemed to have cast some sort of spell, as the dirt filled the grave on it's own and lilies sprung from the soil, only leaving the gravestone reaching up past the blossoms..

The knight inside him wasn't just quiet now. There was  _ a void _ where he  _ had _ been.

Varg screamed.


End file.
